Chapter 31
Chapter
Thirty-One
Reaper
L iz is no longer a virgin. Her smell has changed, deepened. It’s still full-on innocent and a light that fills dark places, and dark where it soothes. It’s just richer now.
The change pisses Dante off, even though he didn’t want a virgin. It’s the idea . He’s in this as deep as Knight with his screwed-up emotions for her.
Me? I have emotions. I’ve just learned to shut them down. Keep them in the limbic range. Low level, except with sex. And even then… I haven’t found a woman to call home.
Fuck that. I don’t want one to call home.
Too many strings and traps. Too many things that aren’t me.
Yet Liz…
She is someone who bleeds through. I don’t know how. I don’t know why.
I swallow a sigh. I meant it when I said I’d walk. I don’t need the fucking bullshit of Dante when he gets like this. I’ve seen it once. A long time ago. We were young and he was puffed up, protecting me, blustering through something I don’t really remember.
We’d had a club of sorts, a precursor that pack kids make, I guess. The other one—someone playing at alpha—didn’t want me in said club. My scars scared him. But Dante knew what would happen if he let me go.
I’d do something.
Or something bad would happen.
Even then, even skinny and weaker, I’d have put money on me. Not because I was good, but because I was smart. A survivor. A quick learner who knew how to fight dirty. Even then, I’d kill.
Maybe Dante knew it, and didn’t want me to lose parts of myself, more than I already had, and so he puffed up and called it his pack, not ours, and got that kid out and appointed me as his equal.
Haven’t thought of that in years, not since it happened.
But we’re no longer kids and while we understand the inner workings of our version of equal footing, it’s Dante’s pack and mine as much as it is Knight’s. I personally don’t care for politics. Even if Dante thinks he’s the king.
A king needs his cohorts who have more powers than him in certain areas.
It’s what makes us powerful.
Almost unstoppable.
It’s what makes us the Unholy Trinity.
Pissing contests and ego attending are not going to be on my agenda.
I’ll kill or walk. I’ll agree and leave. I’ll do whatever I fucking want but at the end of the day, I’ll walk the fuck away if he, or Knight for that matter, start being utter fuckwits.
The clock in my head ticks.
That was four days ago.
Liz hasn’t had her virtue since then, possibly before. Maybe not since I ate her out. Or when Knight finger fucked her in the alley. But apart from the lost virtue, Liz is no longer a virgin. I know deep in my bones she’s now all of ours in deeper ways, more meaningful ways.
I misdirected her when I found her on the floor in her room. I didn’t really bite and suck and lick her fingers to enhance the bite, to help protect her and paint her as taken. Though that is a truthful side effect.
I didn’t do it because she tastes so fucking good. Though that’s a perk.
I did it to solidify she’s mine. Ours. It’s a step closer, and one of the only times I’ve stepped out on pack law. If it’s law. I’m not sure. It’s up there.
I refocus on my job.
Candice Helmont is still home. I look up at the building where she lives from the shadows of a doorway across the street. The small binoculars are an app that Knight rigged up on my phone.
I don’t pretend to know how it works, only it does, and I can hold my phone up like I’m talking or taking a photo. It’s less conspicuous than binoculars.
She’s the reason I’m neck deep in thoughts. I can’t smoke standing here. Not often, anyway. It’s a matter of position and moving about when you’re surveilling. And right now, this works.
Other times, I’m in a car. Or walking. Or yes, smoking.
Candice is head alpha of the Council. And not much is known about her.
I’ve read her dossier and I think there might be five things in there that are true, including her sex.
She’s a closed book. A secret. And too clean.
She also works from home about half the time, the rest in the main office in the city center.
Which should give me an open window to get into her place and search it.
But apart from staff, she has a rotating stream of companions. I don’t know if it’s sexual or companionship or for show. After all, she’s a single and powerful alpha. She should be fucking up and down the damn world.
I don’t think she is.
Two things stand out.
She’s a woman of extreme routine.
And there’s no sign of Ghost.
That bothers me, I decide, as I pack up, and light a cigarette.
She’s a lone wolf who’s embedded herself high up in the Council but I know she’s somehow involved with Ghost.
It’s not sexual.
This woman seems closed. Anything she has in regards to relationships is planned.
I know people like that and they’re usually easier to tail—as in they lead to things. Easier to pin. To work out.
I don’t like them.
I don’t like her.
And Ghost is enough like me for me to know he won’t like her, either.
Business?
Blackmail?
An arrangement of convenience where two goals converge?
Something like that.
But one thing’s for certain—he’s not going to turn up any time soon.
He’d do it after dark, or drop in out of nowhere, but he has a style.
And I’m not going to get anything by standing here.
I take a drag and shake my head, moving off. I’ve got other things to do and I don’t think we’re getting to Candice this way. Short of getting arrested or kidnapping her, I’m not sure how to get information from her.
I don’t like her extreme routine. It speaks of someone with OCD or similar, something that takes routine to another dimension. She isn’t that. Her time to work does vary. She goes out. But it’s all…planned. And when she goes out, it’s never one on one.
Maybe her extreme routine’s a cover.
If Ghost shows, I’m not getting in. I’ll just have a visual on what I know.
Because Ghost is Ghost.
He’s involved.
I feel that, down to my sinew. But if he was going to work for someone, it would be at the top. And he’d go through her, not an underling.
They’re meeting but I don’t know how or where.
She wouldn’t tell me if I took her, and I don’t think she’d tell me even if I tortured her. As to leading me places? I’d have to follow her nonstop and have a small army doing the same.
Him? He’s the smarter bet. I find him, bring him the fuck in, and then we can get somewhere.
My project isn’t Candice Helmont.
It’s Ghost.
I walk back to the car and drive to Pandora’s.
And I smell Liz before I see her. She’s somewhere she shouldn’t be. Outside, a pissed off Julien standing at a distance, staring at her as she tilts her face to the evening sky like it’s the sun.
“Knight told me to watch her while he’s downstairs with Dante. Should I drag her in?” He crosses mighty, tattooed arms. “It’s not safe out here. Not when it gets busy.”
It’s not safe for her at all.
She knows I’m here. Her language changes, going from relaxed to vibrating.
I wave Julien back to work and I motion to Liz to go inside.
For a moment I think she’s going to complain but instead she just sighs and goes in. I follow, keeping at just the right distance to make her uncomfortable and to keep her moving .
On the club floor she turns. “I’m…I’m not sorry I went outside. I’m…trapped.”
“No, you’re not.”
I reach behind the bar to collect any outstanding debt slips. There’s one. Easy enough.
“It’s fine for you,” Liz says, coming at me like she’s just wanting to start a fight. “You leave whenever you want.”
I recognize it, that need to push to make something happen because of what’s inside her. She’s frustrated over something and I just slide a look at her.
“Get changed. Loose dress, combat boots and jacket. A hat. Steal one from Knight’s room.”
The fight rushes from her. “Why?”
“We’re going hunting.”
I don’t go where I’m heading straight away. We have time. Our quarry is out there, and he’ll be at other haunts.
Besides, even for all her chatter, Liz is a lick against dry skin.
She’s not hunched into herself. And she’s not the girl I chased that time. There’s another reason her mouth doesn’t stop talking. Finally, I take her shoulders in the bar and spin her to face me.
The place is dark, mostly empty and seemingly neglected, but come eleven p.m., it’ll be full.
Still, I drag her to a quiet and dark corner, my voice pitched low. “I know you’re not a virgin.”
Her eyes widen. “Did Knight?—”
“Didn’t fucking have to. It’s all over you. We don’t care.”
“Because you’re alphas.”
“And it’s our pack, yeah. ”
But the nerves don’t leave and her gaze jumps around. Finally, she says, “He knotted in me.”
Oh, shit.
Not that he did, but she doesn’t know. Fuck, maybe the little cocky bastard doesn’t know either. “That only really matters if he’s in rut, or if you’re in heat. Besides, you’re on the drugs. It stops anything catching.”
Now she relaxes and I almost hug her to me, almost touch her, kiss her, bite her.
She shouldn’t be out in the fucking world. She’s too naive.
What I should do is take her back. Instead, I tip her very expensive hat she grabbed from Knight’s room into the right position, and I just say, “Come on.”
“Where?”
“To the bar.”
Her hand slides over mine and it takes all I am not to turn my hand to take hers. Later, I promise myself. When the job’s done.
I don’t care about image, but if I’m to shake someone down, holding a girl’s hand won’t help.
At the bar, I get two rums, handing her one and sipping the other. As I pay, I ask the bartender, “Seen Eastman?”
Her eyes narrow. “That fuck? He owes me money. But yeah, he’s hiding out at Lyle’s Ladies.”
“Thanks, Flo.”
“Any time.” I slide more money to her for the information. I take care of those who provide for me, and I drink my drink, as pretty Liz struggles with hers. “Having fun?”
“Yes.” She looks up, eyes big and soft and shining. “You are a beautiful man, Reaper.”
“Liz, I don’t need compliments or sentiments. We’re part of a unit. You’re working out your place.”
A funny expression comes over her, but all she says is, “I’m not sure if I actually belong.”
“You do, if you want to. ”
“But Dante?—”
“He’s got his ways. But he values honesty and loyalty. And he gives it, too.” The fight between Dante and Knight comes to my mind. “Look past how he says shit to the words. And don’t think you’re anything cheap or however you might put it. You’re not. It’s okay to want us equally. We all bring something to the table that works. Take that if you’re to take anything.” My monthly word limit’s running out so I say, “Let’s go.”
The strip club’s a sad place, and Eastman’s easy to spot. Sheer panic hits his face when our eyes lock. But the idiot relaxes when he sees I’m not alone.
I motion for him to come over which he does. “I need the money.”
“I…I have most.”
“I’ll take that,” I say.
“It’s in the back. Come with me.”
I can’t leave Lizette here. Without looking over at Flo, I know I can entrust her with such a weight. But if something happened to Liz, I’d have to take her out, and I like Flo. This isn’t her fight.
It’s not Liz’s either.
But then again, she’s ours.
I know the way omegas are viewed. Weak, protected. Fucking coddled.
She deserves the protection, not the rest. She wasn’t, I suspect, brought up for the rest. It’s just that Roth, which I’ll call him for now, didn’t expect to die.
And he was a cautious man.
There are questions, one I haven’t got the answer to, ones I should have, but those can wait.
My idea of protection is to be eyes open and aware.
Staying with me is the safest of all options.
Eastman looks over his shoulder. “I said come on. I’ll take you. ”
We’ve been standing here for a few seconds. My thoughts are lightning speed, but I flicker a glance at him and he stops speaking. And then I glance at Liz.
I don’t know if she can read me, my blank face is the only one I use. “Stay with me,” I mutter.
It’s a trap, but she’s safe with me.
Anyone’s safe with me. Right up until I decide they’re not.
She nods, half reaches for me, and stops. I turn back to Eastman. “Lead the way.”
We follow him through the bar and past a bouncer, into the girl’s changing rooms. There are only two girls on the stage, showing their stuff, and they must be middle shift. No one else has arrived. He goes to the black duffle on a table near the door marked exit .
He unzips the top. “Damn, I must have brought the wrong bag.”
Before I can stop her, Liz darts out, and takes it. “I’ll carry it for you, so I don’t feel so useless. Do you know where…where…” She frowns, looking puzzled, at him then at me. “Is it a surprise for me, baby bear?”
The man sputters and the corner of my mouth lifts. “Yeah, honey pot. It is,” I tell her.
Then I look at him, and he stops. “You can carry it. This way.”
He opens the exit door. No alarm sounds, not that I expect it to. And we follow him out.
He turns and stupidly pulls a knife.
I push Liz behind me, getting nicked in the arm.
“Woohoo! Reaper boy ain’t so tough!” Eastman crows.
I look at her, aware of his movements. He’s showing off, but he’s no threat. And shortly he won’t be breathing.
The bag looked empty and he made a show of letting me see that when he opened it. False bottom, I’m betting.
“He’s not going to be so alive in a minute, Liz.” I say softly .
And I turn just as he swoops in, coming at me like a crazed bird.
It’s a simple matter of plucking his hand mid-flight, and his neck. I smash his hand into the wall opposite and then his head, hooking his legs from him with one of mine. I smash him into the wall again, before letting him go.
Then I stand over him, one foot on his hand, crushing it. He cries out, which is a pain in the ass, so I slam my other foot down on his windpipe and neck, effectively crushing it.
He gurgles, trying to breathe, neck broken, limbs useless. But he can’t, and for her, so she doesn’t need to witness his suffering, I smash down again.
This time, he doesn’t move.
Liz’s eyes are wide. She swallows. “Is he…?”
“Yes.”
I stare at her, to make sure she’s okay, but she’s looking at me, eyes hungry, and in her hands, money. What the dead man fucking owes.
I take the cash and shove it in my boots, and then she does the same, even putting some in the inner pockets of her jacket.
“Baby’s got game.” I look her up and down. It’s more money than he owes, even with the interest I wasn’t expecting to collect.
She offers a fleeting smile. “Baby’s got some moves,” Liz says. “Dad was…”
“A good teacher.”
Liz nods. Dumps the bag and skirts the body. She fusses with my arm and I completely forgot he managed to cut me. “Are you okay, Reaper?”
“Fine.”
She swallows, looking at me. The light in the alley’s coming from other buildings, the moon above. This alley’s dark and not really used. Now I can see why there’s a sign but no alarm. It looks landlocked, but I’m betting it isn’t. I’m also betting no one comes out here too often, not even to smoke, judging by the ground.
“I’ll take you back,” I say.
She looks up at me. “If I don’t want to?”
“Tough shit, Liz. You could’ve got hurt.”
“Not,” she says, “with you.”
That makes me smile. Inside.
I reach for her, and search for the exit.
I start dragging her into the darkness, to the back. There’s going to be a?—
Something small and sweet smelling hits me in the solar plexus and the surprise sends me reeling. Allowing her to push me back into the wall.
It’s blood lust, the primal sexual kind that glints in her pretty dark eyes. “What if I don’t want to go back? What if I’ve got a taste?” She slides in close and I let her. “What if I want to hunt you?”
My dick twitches, instantly hard. “Not how it works.”
“That,” she whispers, trailing her hand over my cock, eyes lighting up at the size and steel of my erection, “seems convenient. But we’ll play it your way.”
I wait. How she touches, explores, is fucking heaven.
“What if I bargain instead?” she presses.
“Bargain with what? That’s Unholy Trinity money on you.”
“My life.”
“Too priceless, Liz,” I mutter.
“My virtue.”
I laugh softly. “Knight got that.”
“The rest of it.”
Heat moves through me, sexual, alive, and the hunter within rears into life. “Rest of it? Your mouth and cunt’s first times have been claimed.”
She doesn’t pick up on my meaning, so I let that slide. But it’s alive in me. And in that moment, I know two things. I’m chasing her down, right after I let the prey chase me .
And then? I’m claiming her ass.
I almost groan.
“You can have both. And I’ll give you a taste.”
Hand still on my dick, she sinks to her knees and undoes my jeans, freeing me. The heaviness of my thick, long cock hits the air, and her, as she’s a little too close, but her scent blooms big with her delight, and she starts to stroke and touch and taste me with her tongue and lips.
“You’re so big. Are all alphas like this?”
She wants to fucking talk? I’ve talked more tonight than I have in the past month. Shit.
“I don’t measure. I don’t need to. And you won’t either. Dante will kill you, and I’ll help. Knight’ll probably try and save you but when he hears what you’re planning to do, or did do, he’ll come to our side.”
I shut the fuck up the moment my cock hits the back of her throat.
She’s stretched tight around me and she’s gagging. The involuntary motion is sublime on my cock.
I can’t help it. I’m not really one to let someone have the time to explore. I grab her hair, knocking the hat to the dirt. My head hits the brick and every single nerve ending rushes right to my cock that gets bigger. The urge to fucking knot, here and now, is insane.
She’s delightful. Her mouth stretchy and tight, the unavoidable scrape of her teeth delicious. And her tongue? Fuck. It wiggles against me.
I’m absolutely using her face as a fuck hole, so I grip her hair harder as I let her set her pace.
She’s all over the place, exploring and coming almost all the way off to lick and suck and then going down slow, then fast.
Something snaps.
I take over and slam my cock into her, setting the pace I like, going as deep as I want, letting her know my needs, and she’s so hot and wet and tight. She’s like a combination of pussy and asshole, but with more room to do stuff. The stretch of assholes is something I fucking love. But dear lord is her mouth taking over that love.
Dante’s right, this is the best experience and a terrible blowjob, but I think she’s a quick learner, because I force myself to loosen my hold and she gags herself, keeping my pace, going deeper, taking my cock into her throat, pulling back at the right time before surging forward.
I could love a mouth like this. I could love her.
My cock’s aching even as pleasure shoots in streaks through it to all parts of me. My balls rise and I grab her and pull her right in, loving the deepness then I push her almost off, gripping her with one hand and my cock with the other.
“Keep it open.”
She does.
And I come. Hard. Shooting rope after rope of cum into her mouth.
When I’m done, I pant, leaning back against the wall. “Show me, Liz.”
She does and it’s a sight, her pretty face with gobs on it, her mouth open, and a pool of white on her tongue.
“Fucking spectacular,” I say. “You can swallow.”
She does and I wipe off the gobs that landed on her. I go to help her to her feet when she surges forward, licking me, sucking, lapping at me to clean my cock and oh, fuck, is it good.
When she’s done, she runs a finger along the side of my still erect cock, along the tattoo there. “What does it say.”
“Latin. I am death. ”
“Not to me.”
My eyes burn, and I tuck myself away. I help her up.
She’s unfocused, smiling, and crying. I draw her in, lick her tears and I kiss her long, slow, deep, making my claim.
I smooth back her hair. “I was probably seventeen when I got that tattoo done. And yeah, it hurt like a fucking bitch. You’re the only one to ever ask what it says. Women just want to fuck me, not find out who I am. They don’t like what they know beyond the fucking.”
“Then they’re idiots.”
“No,” I say, being fair. “You’re the only one I’ve let in Liz. It’s a gift to you, or a curse.” Then I walk to the end wall, where it’s pooling black shadows, but it doesn’t take me long to find the hidden door. It opens with a click.
Light floods in weakly as I hold it open.
“Tell you what, Liz. You want to play? I’m going to run.”
“So, I catch you?”
“No. That’s not the game. The game is whoever catches can choose.”
Her hands clench and she picks up the hat and puts it on, then takes a few steps to me. “Choose what?”
“Whatever they want to do with the other one.”
“So why are you running?”
“To give you a chance to hide.”
And I’m gone.